


can't believe I ever breathed without you

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: Two years after the bottle breaks, rescue comes. It isn't exactly what Jemma used to dream of.





	can't believe I ever breathed without you

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Kelly Clarkson's "Heartbeat Song."
> 
> This was written in response to an anon prompt which is ... slightly spoilery. So that's at the end in case you're curious.

They should be heading inside, it’s getting late. Not that there’s any sun to tell by, but Jemma’s limbs are growing heavy. Of course that could be due less to the time and more to the astronaut nestled against her chest.

His voice rumbles through her. “What’s that?” There’s no urgency in his tone and when she lifts her head, she sees his eyes are shut. She feels his smile against her ribs. “The song.”

She stops humming instantly and drops her head back to the thin blanket they’ve got stretched out on the sand. Her fingers trail over his back, drawing nonsense patterns. “I’m not going to sing it.” That might be a lie. She has a terrible singing voice and her every attempt to sing modern music to Will ends in him laughing and her swearing never to do it again. She always does though, she can’t help but want to share more of the life he’s missed with him.

His fingers curl and stretch along her sides. They’ve both been motionless so long that the light contact sends a pleasant buzz along her sleepy nerves. “I didn’t ask you to,” he says. “I just wanted to know what it was.”

“‘Heartbeat Song,’” she says. “You don’t know the artist.”

“Ah, one of those. Really narrows it down.”

Her chest shakes at his wry tone. “It’s about someone falling in love after having their heart broken so badly they thought they'd never love again, thought they’d forgotten how.”

His hands tighten and his chin lifts to rest between her breasts. It’s painful, but she can’t mind too terribly, not when it means she can see his face. “Is that so?”

She puts a hand beneath her head to better support it. Her other toys with the frayed fabric of Will’s shirt. She hums in her throat. “In the chorus the singer says she knows her lover will be able to stand it if she turns her forgotten heartbeat song _up up up up all night long_.”

Sure enough, Will sputters out a laugh, which he buries in her chest. She drops her head back, her eyes slipping shut on the starry sky as he takes to kissing his way up her chest.

“Skye used to play it,” she says in an effort to distract from her own embarrassment. And to hold Will off a little while longer. It is so much more satisfying when he’s practically begging her.

His hands tighten in quiet support. “She’s the one with the powers?”

She dips her chin even though he can’t see. There was a time when she kept some things back from Will, secrets she wouldn’t risk him sharing once they returned home. There’s not much danger of that any longer. 

“She programmed it into her phone and would play it every time Hunter and Bobbi appeared after obviously secretly sleeping together.”

Will sputters into her chest again. She twists her hand beneath the waist of his pants, gripping his hip to pull him higher.

“I think she liked it as much for herself though. She wanted to believe that was possible.” Will knows about this too, how the team was broken after one of their own betrayed them.

He nuzzles her breasts, an odd mix of comfort and sensuality. She pulls again. She doesn’t want his apologies for things he didn’t do.

“Holy-” he breathes, which is far from the kisses she expected. She twists as he pushes to his knees, leaving her cold without his weight. Her eyes lock on what he’s already seen: a figure walking across the sand.

Excitement and fear war in her chest, and she’s not sure at any moment which might be winning. Long forgotten hope that they’re about to be rescued is bubbling up from somewhere deep inside of her, but she sternly pushes it back down as Will pulls her closer to the rocks, to the narrow path they’ve managed to forge over this ridge. It’s a straight shot over and across the sand to the caves if their visitor turns out to be a threat.

And he just might. The man is outfitted in full desert camouflage, his face hidden by a cap and goggles to guard against storms; he clearly knew what he’d find on this side of the monolith. But he makes so sign of hello and he appears to be alone, not quite the rescue party she used to dream of.

“Any idea who this might be?” Will asks while there’s still enough distance he won’t be heard.

She doesn’t answer. It’s not Mack or Fitz, but she’s trying to remember if Hunter wasn’t shorter than this man appears to be.

“That’s far enough,” Will says, brandishing his gun. Jemma has the machete.

The stranger’s head rolls and she can just imagine the eyes behind those goggles rolling along with it. And she knows, all at once, exactly who this is.

“A gun with one bullet,” Ward says. “I’m shaking.” He moves his goggles above the bill of his cap, leaving stark lines on his face. She wonders how long he’s been walking across this desert to be so filthy—not that she has much room to point fingers after all the time she’s been here. He meets her eyes. “And I just want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for making me come back to hell. I missed it so much.”

Jemma’s still reeling over Ward showing up—he’s quite literally the last man on Earth she’d expect to come looking for her—but Will manages to anchor her, as he always does. “Jemma,” he says softly. His hand is warm at her elbow. “You know this guy?”

“Yes,” she says, focusing on him because it’s easier than focusing on the impossibility ahead of her. “This is Grant Ward.”

Immediately Will lifts his gun again, his expression turning the darkest she’s ever seen it.

Ward doesn’t seem concerned. “Is that any way to treat your savior?” he asks with a snide twist of his lips.

Jemma steps forward, putting a restraining hand on Will’s arm. But not pushing the gun down. She wants to get back to Earth, but that doesn’t make her stupid.

“You’re here to take us home?” she asks.

He sobers, staring at her in a piercing way that reminds her of the few times her duty as makeshift medical agent forced her to visit him in Vault D. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I’m here to take you home. So let’s get a move on. We’ve got a long way to go.”

“Really?” Will asks. He looks between Ward and Jemma. “I don’t even know you and I’m not buying this. Some guy who once tried to _kill_ Jemma shows up out of nowhere to save us? You expect us to believe that’s all this is?”

Ward shakes his head, but not in denial. It’s more like aggravation they’re not immediately falling into line with his plans. And she wants to, very much, because if he really does have a way home … But she knows better than to take Ward at face value.

“Okay,” he says, “let me just make this clear: if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. I was giving you your _best chance_.”

“You were _not_ -” Jemma starts, intent on ending with a very impressive insult, but Ward keeps talking over her.

“And if I wanted you dead now, I’d just _leave you_ here. So.” He turns to the side and gestures with both hands to the distant hills he just came from.

Will looks to Jemma, letting her decide. She’s the one who knows Ward. If she says he’s not trustworthy—and he’s not—then Will will … what? Refuse to follow Ward? Untrustworthy he may be, but he’s the first human being they’ve seen in _years_. It’s not as though they can pass up this opportunity.

“How far?” she asks. “And how long do we have?” If the others have found a way to manually open the portal—or even if they’re simply tracking its natural cycle—the three of them will have to arrive on time or be lost. Again.

Ward looks annoyed she’s even asking. “About five miles. And a couple hours, so we should really-”

“We need supplies,” Jemma says. For the two of them, it’s late. The rest they just got lounging around will be enough they can stay awake the two hours it’ll take, but neither of them has eaten since breakfast. Maybe Ward can keep going without eating regularly, but she and Will long ago lost their natural stores of energy. They’ll need food to make it to the portal site.

Ward looks like he’s about to argue, but Will and Jemma exchange a look, having an entire conversation before he can say no. Much as she hates it, Jemma runs up the narrow path, leaving Will to keep Ward company.

“Just so we’re clear-” Will begins as she crests the ridge, and she finds herself pausing on the other side to hear what’s said. Her heart leaps into her throat, sure she’s about to hear the man she loves be murdered.

“Oh, we’re clear,” Ward says. “Trust me, there is not a single thing you can say right now that I don’t already know. So let’s just stand here awkwardly and wait for her to get back, okay?”

A few beats pass. Jemma swallows her fears and races to the caves, hopefully for what will be the last time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first mile goes slow. The terrain is rough and she and Will are snacking on seed pods whenever they have room to breathe. After they make it into the open, it gets easier. She tries to talk to Will, just to keep the heavy silence at bay, but every time she speaks Ward picks up the pace, going faster and faster until they might as well be running.

She doesn’t know what his problem is. Shouldn’t he be glad to have something to pass the time, even if it’s a conversation he’s not welcome in? But then this is Ward she’s thinking of, who’s only happy when he’s making others miserable.

She and Will resign themselves to holding hands, offering each other that small, silent comfort. Every so often he smiles at her and squeezes her fingers as if to say, _we’re going home_. She almost can’t believe it either.

And in fact, it becomes harder to believe it the farther they get. Her fear of Ward mixes with resurfacing worries. Why is he here all alone? How did he know what terrain to expect? How did he even find them?

She surges forward, leaving Will to trail behind with a reassuring nod, and catching up to Ward. “Why are you here?” she asks. “Really?”

“I told you,” he says. “I’m here to take you home.”

“No,” she says, “that doesn’t make sense. Even if the team trusts you now—which I don’t believe for a moment, by the way—they wouldn’t send _you_.” She tried to kill him the last time they met, Fitz knows that even if the others don’t. They’d have to know she’d never trust him.

And yet, a small voice reminds her, she _is_ trusting him. There’s an ache in her chest, the same one that’s been there ever since she saw that bottle break, that urges her to grab hold of Ward and not let go until he’s taken her back to Earth. She’d follow him into the heart of HYDRA itself if it meant she could leave this place behind.

“They would if they had no choice,” he says. “If there was a bigger threat than me and I was the best choice to come get you besides.”

“A bigger threat?” she echoes. “What’s happened? Are they-”

“Hey.” He stops and she realizes she has grabbed on to him. Will’s a few feet behind, his gun unholstered again. Ward shoots him a look that says more than Jemma can decipher.

She wonders if more was said while she was gathering their meager supplies, saying hasty and surprisingly heartfelt goodbyes to what has been her home for so long. It wasn’t the place—she’s glad to be rid of the stone walls and dirt floors and broken supplies - but _Will_. Those caves were their home together, their little corner of domesticity in a savage world. Whatever they build together on Earth, it will be better simply by virtue of indoor plumbing, but it won’t be the same as the happiness they had to grab with both hands and hold fast every day.

Ward’s hand on her shoulder snaps her back to the moment. “Whatever happens on the other side,” he says, strangely serious, “you’re gonna be okay.” He looks around. “This place didn’t break you, nothing will.”

The surface of the planet is always somewhat chilled, slightly below comfortable room temperature, but now Jemma feels downright cold. She backs away from Ward, and Will catches her, wrapping a warm arm around her shoulders and letting her bury herself in his chest.

Ward watches them with a worryingly sorrowful expression. He turns away, spine straight, and plows on.

“He’s right, you know,” Will says softly, once Ward’s gone far enough he can’t hear.

She looks up at him, not sure he quite understands how impossible that is. He only smiles.

“I know you’re scared of him, of whatever his real plan here is. But he’s got nothing on this place. Whatever he’s got waiting for us-” he looks around at the sand, the stones, the sky- “we’re gonna survive it.”

He’s right. There’s nothing Ward can do that’s worse than two years on this planet. If anything, he’s likely to underestimate her. Again. And she nearly killed him last time he did that; this might be a good day all around.

She presses onward, hurrying to catch up. Though she aches with curiosity and each step closer to home only multiplies her worries, she doesn’t approach Ward again. Whatever he’s talking about, whatever’s waiting for her on the other side, she’s too afraid to know. She’s like a woman living with a toothache because she knows a dentist will prescribe a root canal. It’s irrational and likely only to hurt her more in the long run, but she can’t bring herself to do what she knows she has to.

For one brief moment the chaotic tumble of her thoughts leaves her as they come up to what might, before whatever disaster caused the planet’s rotation to go so far askew, have been a lake. They stand at the rocky shore while beneath them narrow streams of sand fall into the swirling portal.

“It’s stable,” she breathes.

Ward glances at his watch. “Not for long. We’ve gotta move.” He grabs at her hand but she doesn’t move. “Simmons.”

“This is crazy,” she says, not sure if she means her own fear—and that’s what it is, she realizes now, real fear—of returning to Earth or that she’s been in Ward’s presence for nearly two hours and hasn’t shot him once.

“What’s wrong?” Will asks. No surprise, no anger, no wondering why she’s just standing here when home is one jump away.

“Something’s not right.” A lot of things aren’t right about this situation, but there’s more, something she’s missed in all her foolish calculations that getting home is worth trusting Ward.

“And you can think about that once we’re out of this hellhole,” Ward says. “So can we please-” He tugs at her arm, but Will’s at her back, holding her hips.

She lets Will anchor her again, his love and warmth and protection wrapping around her like a shield. She’s safe, secure with him.

Ward’s staring. He’s got this look on his face like seeing her happy with Will physically pains him and suddenly she’s afraid this is all a trick, a trap meant only to hurt her. Like bringing Hunter to Spain so Bobbi could see him die.

“Why are you here?” she asks again, shifting so as to stand more fully between him and Will.

“Do we seriously have to have this conversation again?” Ward asks, his voice hitting that register she remembers from the days immediately after his exposure to the berserker staff. “The way home is right there. Can’t we do this on the other side?”

Jemma rests her hand over Will’s on her hip.

Ward called this hell. Just now, but earlier too. And he said something else, something she didn’t pay much attention to because it didn’t make any sense. But maybe that’s all the more reason she should have been paying attention.

“You said you’d been here before,” she says.

“What?” he asks.

“When you first arrived. You said I made you come back here. And you said you knew everything Will could say.” Will’s hands tighten around her hips, lending her more support. “And you called this hell. There’s no reason to do that if you’ve only been here a few hours.”

“Simmons-”

“What’s really going on here?”

The portal swirls at Ward’s back, dragging in more and more sand, soon the rock they’re standing on will be in danger of slipping. He seems at a loss for words, but she doesn’t feel particularly triumphant. Finally he goes, quite literally, over her head.

“I know you love her,” he says to Will. “If you’re half the man you’re supposed to be, you’d rather die than let her spend one more second here. So either you get her home or I will.”

The threat has her clutching to Will, holding his hands to her hips to keep him behind her. She won’t let Ward hurt him.

“He’s right,” Will says softly, his beard scraping at her hair. “It’s right there. Whatever happens on the other side, we can figure it out together.”

His turns beneath hers, relaxing her death grip. She twists her neck to smile up at him. He’s right. The one thing she’s always held to in this place is that they can face anything so long as they’re together. There’s no reason that won’t hold true on Earth.

She steps forward, Will at her side. Ward’s got that look on his face again, but she doesn’t bother trying to decipher it. As she nears the edge, she can feel a slight tremor in the stone. It drives away her fear, leaving only excitement. They’re going home.

She holds tight to Will’s hand, meets his eager smile with her own, and together they jump.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jemma’s body hurts. Her muscles feel weak and tired. She sinks to the floor, her entire back going tingly like she’s standing on a foot that’s fallen asleep. Which, incidentally, is what her feet feel like even though she’s on the ground.

“You’re okay,” Daisy says. “You ‘re safe. I’ve got you.” She tries to take her hand to help her up but that only reminds her it’s empty.

A sob erupts from her. She tries to stop it with a hand to her mouth, but they keep coming.

“Go.” Ward’s a few feet away, climbing off a table. He sways, but keeps his feet. “The others are gonna need you.”

Daisy glares at him, but he’s likely not wrong. If things are half as bad as they were when Aida jumped her…

“Go,” Jemma says. It comes out hoarse. She clears her throat. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

Daisy stands reluctantly. “If you hurt her,” she says and lets the threat hang. It’s not the first Ward’s heard since his miraculous return from the dead five months ago and it won’t be the last.

For a few moments they stay just as Daisy leaves them. Jemma on the ground. Ward leaning against his table.

She can’t stand that though. If she doesn’t move, doesn’t think, then the memories of what she had, what she lost—again—threaten to rise up and drown her.

There’s a sort of stand next to her, she imagines she was resting against it while she slept, kept in an upright position. There are potential reasons for that, ones she sets aside. The real world components of Radcliffe’s mental prison will still be there to distract her later. For now, the simple task of standing takes plenty of her attention. She grabs onto the stand, uses it to hoist herself up.

Ward’s there in a heartbeat. His hand at her waist to steady her.

“Don’t,” she says, her voice cold as ice, “touch me.”

His hand lifts away, but hovers to catch her. She didn’t expect much more. Ward’s made a point of pressing everyone’s buttons since his return, using his access to Hive’s memories to annoy them every chance he gets.

His gaze rests on her face until she has no choice but to meet it. “You’re mad?” he asks. “Hurting? You wanna share that pain? Spread it around? You hate me for taking him away when we both know he wasn’t even there to begin with?”

She wants to say no. Because she’s not Ward, she would never terrorize people just to muffle the pain of her own broken heart.

She tells herself she doesn’t deny it because it would take too much energy to speak.

He grips the side of her head, his fingers digging almost painfully into her hair. There was a day she felt broken, when another man held her like this and said words that gave her hope again.

“You can survive this,” he says.

Somewhere in her chest, the break she thought she’d long since healed cracks open, bringing with it a flood. Ward holds her to his chest, letting her silent sobs shake through him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> An anon over on tumblr asked for a fic where Jemma was plugged into the Framework and her greatest regret was Will.


End file.
